Death By Fucking - Cover

Death By Fucking

Copyright© 2003 by Andrew Wiggin

Chapter 20: Dinner and a Movie

Funny Sci-Fi Sex Story: Chapter 20: Dinner and a Movie - This is a story with romance, sex, and humor with some sci fi. NO VIOLENCE. With apologies to the memory of Robert A. Heinlein. Winner of the Golden Clitorides Award: Best Humor Story; Best Long Story by a New Author 2nd Place Winner of the Golden Clitorides Award: Long Story of the Year Golden Clitorides Finalist: Best Erotic SciFi Story I've added a chapter of quotations from popular culture that I used when writing this story.

Caution: This Funny Sci-Fi Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Science Fiction   Humor   Oral Sex  

The Year Seven

Helen's Story

At the Tennis Court

I sat with Donna and Deirdre Adkins, watching as the Progenitor played tennis with the prosecutor. I'm from New York, so I expected that these people would be less than cultured, living as they do in rural Georgia of all places. I guess I was expecting a hick town and a hick family. I was mistaken.

The environment here is lovely. The house is a stately old mansion. The grounds are well-kept and open. The family is calm and intelligent. The Progenitor is playful and gorgeous. I suppose I expected none of this.

I had planned a bitchy little story designed to poke holes in this person, ridicule his pomposity. But he has no pomposity. I expected shy, foolish women. Instead I found confident scholars. And they are as sexy as he is. Even the friend, this Jake guy, has caught my eye. These people live a good life.

Just being around these beautiful people had gotten my juices flowing. Then one of the wives had given me the Playboy article to read. It was an explicit description of how Andrew Adkins had serviced two Playmates of the month during one session in this very house!

Reading this story while stealing glances at the Progenitor as he gracefully played tennis was one of my more surreal experiences. Nothing seems to bother these people.

After I had returned the magazine to one of the wives, she asked, "What are your plans for this evening? Are you flying back to New York?"

I said, "No, if you are agreeable, I'd like to return tomorrow and continue our interview. I've got so many questions I haven't even begun to ask. I'm embarrassed to admit that you two ladies didn't meet my preconceptions. The tone and tenor of my story has to change."

She smiled her understanding. "Why don't you stay with us tonight? Jake usually stays for dinner when the boys play tennis. You would be more than welcome to join in. And you could stay in our downstairs guest room. We call it the "Get Andrew Laid" room. It's the room described in that Playboy story. It's not exactly like staying in the Lincoln Room at the White House, but at least it has been, uh, immortalized in print, if you know what I mean."

I could tell that this woman found the whole Playboy phenomenon highly amusing. She drops thinly veiled hints about her husband's sexual prowess then laughs at how a boring family man such as Andrew Adkins could achieve the lofty status of international sex god.

I thought about the vanilla motel room I had planned to stay in; the standard fare meal from the yuppie food chain I had noticed on the way out. Instead I was being offered an opportunity to have a meal with the most extraordinary family in America (maybe), and to stay in a room guaranteed to make me want to play with myself (or anyone else that might offer). This was a no-brainer.

I happily accepted the gracious offer. "Are you sure?" I don't want to impose."

She laughed her melodious laugh, a small hand coming up to cover her mouth. "Sweetie, we have three adults and six children, plus Jake, already. One more will hardly be noticed. I must warn you however, dinner at our house can be a trying experience to the uninitiated. Suffice it say that Emma will be there. Oh, and it's movie night. The whole crew will be in the den watching. I was told that Eddie and Edie have prepared something special, but I don't know what it is."

I asked, "Emma? Emma is one of your daughters, isn't she? Is she a problem?"

The woman's laughter had stopped but the twinkle remained in her beautiful eyes. "Emma is our own little train wreck. She was the daughter that appeared on Larry King last year."

I smiled. "Oh yes, the one who told that Pastor in Swahili that he has a fat ass!"

Donnie or Deirdre, whoever, said, "That's one of her milder pranks. It took the news media a week to pick up on it. No one of importance in this country speaks Swahili it appears. But apparently a number of news outlets received anonymous e-mails explaining the joke. That's how it got out."

I was confused. "They received anonymous e-mails? Do you have any idea who might have sent them?"

She replied, "I never asked, but I do know that Emma doesn't like it if her little tricks go unappreciated."

I laughed. "Why the little devil. I can hardly wait to meet her."

The wife nodded. "I thought you might find her interesting. If you don't mind I'll seat you next to her tonight. She will be playing to you anyway, so we might as well make it easy on her. By the way, are you a meat eater or a vegetarian?"

I said "Why, it doesn't matter. Whatever the family eats will be fine."

"Our family has a divide. Andrew eats meat when he can. And if Jake is here he has an excuse. So when he makes dinner on tennis night, those two always have meat."

I was surprised. "Andrew makes dinner on tennis night?"

She nodded. "Andrew makes dinner every night. He does most of the cooking around here. He's a better cook than Donnie or me."

Wow. I was going to have a dinner prepared by the Progenitor. I said, "If it's okay, I'll join the men and have meat."

She said, "I'm sure that will be fine. Andrew is making rack of lamb tonight."

I tried to back out. "Oh, don't let him to go to all that trouble on my account. I'm sure that whatever the rest of the family is having will be fine."

She wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. "Don't worry yourself about it. Andrew loves rack of lamb. He's always looking for an excuse to have it. And he claims that it is really quite easy to make. So rack of lamb it is. Why don't you get your things and I'll get you settled in the 'Get Andrew Laid' room? You can freshen up a bit. Dinner is at six-thirty. Because it's movie night, the eKids can stay up a little later than usual."

The men had finished their tennis match and were walking over to the wives and me. I could tell by the look on Andrew's face that he had lost. Jake looked smug and was offering Andrew advice on tennis.

"Drew, I recommend that when a ball comes in your general direction you lift your racket and attempt to hit it. Who knows, you might get lucky and connect with something."

Andrew looked at Jake with weary resignation. I somehow felt that when the shoe is on the other foot, Andrew has no compunctions about offering Jake advice of his own.

"Lay off, Jake. I'm having a very bad day."

Jake said, "You used to claim that you are a tennis stud, but now we learn that you're just a stud. I'm so proud to know you, Mr. Progenitor."

Andrew shot what appeared to be a guilty look towards his wives. He saw that Donnie was perusing the magazine. I knew it was Donnie because Deirdre was the one I was speaking to.

"Uh, Donnie are you going to monopolize that thing all day?"

Donnie looked up from the picture spread as if noticing Andrew for the first time. "Andrew! There you are. You know we are all so pleased. Our husband does two Playmates at once! I think we should send a copy of this to your mother. I'm sure she will be very proud."

"Mom always said I had talent. I just had to discover what it is. Now let me see what it is I did, will ya?"

Donnie looked smug. She said to me, "I'll bet he doesn't even remember who they are."

Jake nodded his head. "Yeah, he asked me what they looked like. I told him if I ever went to bed with two Playmates, I sure as hell would have remembered their faces. The man's sick."

Andrew said, "The man has two wives that will make you forget every other face you ever saw."

Donnie hardly even smiled at that. She knew it already. She handed the magazine over and Andrew looked at the centerfold with two pulchritudinous babes displaying their charms.

He nodded. "Oh, yeah; those two. I kind of remember them. Their names begin with "D", right?"

Deirdre smiled indulgently at her husband. She said to me, "Every woman he's been with has a name starting with the letter "D", so he made a safe guess. He's been impregnating women from the IAM "D" generation."

Andrew said, 'Yes, how bad is that! Worse, I've had over a thousand children, and every one of them has a name starting with the letter "E". Now that should warrant consideration in the Book of World Records, shouldn't it?

Donnie said, "The real record is that with a thousand children, over eight hundred girls, and not one Edith or Ethel or Edna. That was the major condition that Andrew made the women agree to before impregnation."

Andrew tried to defend himself. "I hate those names. Who wants a kid named Ethel?"

I could see that the Progenitor had a child-like view of life. No wonder these marvelous women were with him. He's gorgeous, amazing in bed, and intelligent; yet he's innocent and playful.

Jake looked at the wives. He said, "Andrew tells me that you don't allow Playboy in the house. What do you plan to do with this one?"

Donnie chuckled. "It's going on our coffee table. Our husband is a celebrity! Is America a great country or what?"

Andrew said, "I haven't owned a copy of Playboy since college. Some guy I knew had a vintage collection of Playboys that must have covered ten years of issues. For some reason he didn't want to take them with him when he graduated, so he sold me the whole batch."

"I knew exactly what I wanted to do with them. Did you ever see that painting "American Gothic" by Grant Wood - a dour old farm couple standing in front of their house, the man with a pitch fork, the woman looking like Granny on the Beverly Hillbillies? I bought a print of that painting and hung it on my wall in the dorm. I scoured through ten years of Playboy centerfolds till I found one that was just the right size and just the right pose. Then I cut out the girl's body, cut off her head, and pasted it under the head of the old lady in the painting. I don't know, I just thought the farmer looked happier after that."

Everyone looked at him with a mixture of amazement and pity as he went through this dissertation.

Jake said, "Drew the thing that worries me is that you would probably do the same damn thing today if you had the chance."

Andrew replied, "Sure. Who wouldn't?"

The wives stood up. One said to her husband, "Come on sweetheart, let's get you out of the sun. I think it's affecting your brain."

The other wife said, "As long as it doesn't affect anything else, who cares?"

Andrew took his wives by the arm and the five us returned to the house.

Donnie showed me into the "Get Andrew Laid" room. It was pretty much as described in Playboy. I spent some time freshening up before dinner then went out to face the Adkins clan.


Dinner

I don't suppose I ever wondered what Joanne Woodward looked like as a child, but I found out when I was suddenly confronted by these four identical little girls; beautiful, curly, shoulder-length blonde hair; each missing several teeth. They were little versions of their mothers: small, slender and beautiful.

Then two little dark-haired boys came scampering by. One could see their father in them. They were already as tall as their older sisters.

With six children, one would expect chaos and confusion, noise and jangled nerves. But these children barely made a sound. Two of the girls never said a word. A third girl made a comment or two but was rather quiet.

The fourth girl maintained a steady commentary from the time she walked in to the dining room until everyone had found their places. She didn't shut up until her father fixed her with a look. He said nothing, and I didn't even notice her looking at him. But she suddenly quieted down then turned and winked at her father. He tried to look grumpy, but it was obviously an effort: Emma.

One of the wives attempted to introduce me to the children. She said, 'Kids, this is Ms. Helen Gammon. Helen, these are the eGirls and eBoys. Our boys are Ethan and Eric. Those two across the table from you are Eddie and Edie. Eddie is the one on the left."

Andrew butted in. "Uh, Dee Dee, Eddie is the one on the right."

Deirdre responded, "Well it doesn't really matter anyway, does it? Speak to one and you are speaking to both of them. Am I right girls?"

Both of the little girls across the table from me smiled at their mother and nodded their heads in unison. They looked in each other's eyes and started giggling.

Andrew said to the girls, "Kids if you have something to say, you can say it to the whole group. What do you want to say?"

The one on the right, Edie I guess, said "No"

The one on the left, Eddie I guess, said "Daddy"

Right said "We"

Left said "don't"

Right said "have"

Left said "anything"

Right said "to"

Left said "say."

Right said "Do

Left said "you?"

Andrew reprimanded them. "You know we have a rule. You can't speak single words when you two are talking. It's annoying."

Right said, "Okay Daddy"

Left said "We won't"

Right said "Do it"

Left said "Ever again

Right said "Is that"

Left said "what you"

Right said "want us"

Left said "to do?"

Andrew looked pained. "Very funny. Complete sentences for the remainder of the evening, if you please."

I was amazed. I asked him, "How do they do that?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. You know how identical twins are. I sometimes think those two are telepathic."

Emma jumped in. "What do you think they are the rest of the time, Daddy?"

Andrew gave her what looked to be a warning glare. "Don't start with me, Emmy. At least you and Elle don't speak like circus freaks."

Elle said "We"

Emma said "don't"

Elle said "because"

Emma said "my"

Elle said "sister"

Emma said "is"

Elle said "a"

Emma said "pain"

Elle said "in"

Emma said "my"

Elle said "butt."

Andrew looked resigned. "Just lay off, will ya?"

The wives were serving the food by this time. I was surprised to be served beautifully prepared lamb, medium rare with some sort of glaze. Beside the meat were some vegetable I didn't recognize and some little muffin-like things. I didn't know what they were either.

Andrew saw my confusion. He said, "Those are field peas along with some hush puppies. This is kind of like Southern Fried rack of lamb, as it were. When in Rome..."

I smiled rather guiltily and said, "I'm sure it will be wonderful." My actual opinion might have been slightly different. Actually it was wonderful. It was all wonderful.

As I was eating, Emma leaned in my direction and asked "Do you have a boyfriend, Miss Gammon?"

I thought that was rather presumptuous of the little thing, but I answered honestly. "No, I'm between boyfriends right now."

She leaned closer and whispered in my ear "Between girlfriends, too, I'll bet."

I dropped my fork I was so shocked.

Andrew caught my discomfort, if not the exchange. "Emmy, do what you like but don't do it here."

She was the picture of innocence when she said, "Okay, Boss."

Things seemed to calm down around the dinner table as the girls concentrated on eating. Andrew had something to say, so he unceremoniously launched into a lecture. The man is distinctly odd. I can see where the girls get it from.

"I've been thinking about the solitaire game on my computer. I'm convinced that it is forcing me to lose far more often than it used to. I did a statistical analysis of a thousand games. I discovered that if I uncover 2 aces, the likelihood that the next two deuces I uncover will be the other two covered suits is about 73.5%. If I uncover 3 aces, the likelihood that the next deuce I turn up will be the remaining covered suit is 47.3%. Now that just isn't mathematically feasible, given a statistically large enough dataset."

One of the wives said, "Andrew, do you remember when we first met that you mentioned to us that sometimes you are interested in things that other people find deadly dull? Believe me, sweetie, this is one of those times."

Jake said, "You play solitaire on the computer? You sit around and play a thousand games at a time just to analyze the suit distribution? What in the world for?"

Andrew looked defensive. "It relaxes me!"

Jake shook his head. "Buddy, I thought you had to be the most relaxed man in the world!"

Emma turned to one of her brothers. She said, "That's because he gets laid all the time."

The brother grimaced. He replied, 'I know he gets laid all the time."

Andrew said, 'If you went into the Kalahari and asked a bushman who Andrew Adkins was, the bushman would say 'that's the guy that gets laid all the time'. Everyone in the world seems to know about my sex life."

A wife said, "Yes dear, and we are all very proud."

Andrew didn't want to leave the solitaire story alone. He said, "But look, I've uncovered an anomaly here in my card game. It shouldn't be working this way. I'm winning significantly fewer times than I used to. I've been trying to develop a theory about why."

A wife said to me, "Andrew is very good at developing theories. Some of them are actually interesting."

He gave her a look then continued. "What could be causing this phenomenon? Let's consider. A) It could be Microsoft's way of telling someone he plays solitaire too much. Once you reach a certain number of games it might be pre-programmed to lower the percentage of wins. B) It could... I just haven't been able to come up with a 'B)' yet."

I noticed that Emma next to me was studiously looking at her plate. She seemed to be trying to arrange things so that her remaining field peas were underneath the knife situated along the side of her plate.

Andrew said, "Okay then B)..." His eyes seemed to have a flash of recognition. "B) Emmy! Emmy, first of all, don't think you can hide those peas under your knife. Just eat them and get it over with. Secondly, you little stinker, you've been screwing around with my solitaire game!"

Emma looked at him with a very innocent expression that I was beginning to realize was an admission of guilt. "I wouldn't do that, Daddy. Would I?"

He said, "You just love to torture me, don't you?"

She gave him a little wink and said, "But didn't you have fun doing your analysis? I try to give your life a little focus."

I heard Andrew mumble under his breath, "Focus you."

I was still trying to get my mind around the fact that a seven year old could rig a computer game when the subject matter at the table changed.

One of the wives said, "Jake, have you given any more thought to our proposal?"

Jake replied, 'I don't know, Deirdre. I'm pretty happy as County Prosecutor."

I jumped in. This Jake was pretty hunky and obviously smart as well. "What's this about?"

The Deirdre wife said, "We've asked Jake to consider handling the legal side of our business affairs. We have some pretty large things coming down the pike and we need to cover our bases, legally."

I was surprised. I asked, "What could you be doing that requires a full time lawyer to handle?"

Andrew said, "Eddie and Edie have a couple of developments that we've decided to market. If they are as big as I think they can be, Jake would be managing the legal team. We need someone we can really trust to be in charge. We'll hire other lawyers for specific functions. Our legal needs look to be pretty large."

"Come on Jake. It'll be fun. Aren't you tired of drug dealers and jaywalkers? Wouldn't you like to take on Microsoft and Sony?"

I know I'm just a feature writer, but there was obviously a story here. "What have you developed that will require you to take on Microsoft and Sony?"

Emma said, "My sisters, the computer geeks, wrote a new operating system when they were five. Windows sucks. Everybody knows that. UNIX isn't bad, but still has plenty of holes. And Apple isn't even a player. We needed a secure operating system so Eddie and Edie wrote their own. I thought we could maybe sell it, so I told them what to do to make it commercially viable."

I couldn't believe I was hearing this stuff from a seven year old. I asked her "How does it work?"

She looked across the table at her sisters, almost as if she were asking for permission to speak for them. I saw an almost imperceptible nod from one of them so Emma continued.

"First, it is totally secure. I attacked the thing for months without being able to break in."

Andrew felt the need to butt in. "Sorry, Helen, but this part is off the record. Suffice it to say, if Emmy can't hack it, it can't be hacked."

Emma continued. "Anyway, it recognizes hardware automatically. Except for the really weird items, no drivers are required. It will go and find any of the weird drivers and retrieve and install them without operator intervention. We don't need a browser, since the operating system is a browser."

Andrew interjected, "There you go, Jake. Microsoft tried to include Internet Explorer in with Windows and was sued. We'll be sued too for having an internal browser. That's one of the things we have to be prepared for, though ours is totally integral with the operating system. It's seamless. You can't see where the OS ends and the browser begins."

Emma looked at her father as if to say 'shut the hell up' and then went on.

"Our OS requires a special touch-screen that my sisters developed. Most of the control functions can be performed without keystrokes and without a pointing device, since the touch-screen is the pointing device."

"Since we had a touch-screen already, we put a little scanner into one corner of the screen. So there isn't any sign-on procedure. Just touch the corner with your finger and the system recognizes you and brings up your desktop automatically. If it doesn't recognize your fingerprint you can't get in."

Jake asked, "But what if the person is handicapped and has no fingers?"

Emma looked at him with a degree of pity. "Please Jake. I think we know what we're doing here. I'm just giving you general information. We've covered the obvious exceptions to the rules already. If I go into all of the 'what ifs' I'll start sounding like Daddy."

Andrew looked offended. "How come I get insulted around here when I'm not even in the conversation?"

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